


where are our beards, blackwall? where?

by cartographicalspine



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, Companions, Gen, Growing Up, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartographicalspine/pseuds/cartographicalspine
Summary: The team is shopping in the capital when Cole suddenly has an important question for Blackwall. The Inquisitor's teenaged cousin makes things worse.A short and silly take on one of my favorite banters. Hinted Blackwall/Inquisitor near the end.





	where are our beards, blackwall? where?

“How do you get the hair on your face?” Cole’s pale, watery eyes blinked up at him with what Blackwall was dismayed to realize was genuine curiosity. Oh, Maker, talking with him always ended with the beginnings of a throb in his head.

He sighed and cast about for Solas, or Lady Trevelyan, or someone who would take either of them out of the conversation. “Look, ask Varric. He seems to have adopted you.”

Of course, Cole didn’t make to leave. He could have found the dwarf easily even in this crowd but he had chosen Blackwall to badger with his odd questions and comments the entire trip. He supposed he ought to have felt flattered, but right now all he felt was a sense of impending dread.

“He doesn’t have hair on his face. Is it a mask?” Cole asked, leaning in to look closely. What he was looking for, Blackwall didn’t have the slightest idea. Seams, or strings, he supposed. Not that he would find anything visible here.

He angled himself away from the boy’s intense, scrutinizing stare and wide-brimmed hat. “No, it’s a beard. Look, if you were any other lad your age I’d tell that one day you’ll probably grow one too—”

Erzi shoved himself into their weird little huddle with an indignant frown. “That’s what Mack always says but everyone our age is already shaving and he never lets me even hold the razor blade for _one_ second. Not one and I wrote so many apologies to Lord Abernache that my hand cramped for two days!”

“—except I don’t know if spirits that become boys get beards,” Blackwall added in a rush, herding them out of the path of irritated Orlesian pedestrians and shoppers. He couldn’t care less about what they thought but the boys didn’t deserve their pompous Orlesian ire. “And you, um, it must be a Herald thing or something. Ask Andraste.”

He knew it wasn’t a great answer; it wasn’t even a good one, and Erzi’s face showed it. But damn it, he couldn’t treat them like actual children. Things were complicated enough already, though whether attachment would hurt them or him more wasn’t clear to him. And he didn’t want to find out (he _couldn’t_ ).

“I could try.” Cole looked at Blackwall and then at his companion, still fuming at his own bare face. “We could, together. Shapes are easier when it’s from two or more sides. Or we can just wait and look.”

Erzi rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, looking less angry and more soothed beneath those words. “There’s some mirrors in that shop we passed earlier, Cole. We can look in there.”

Before Blackwall could say another word, the pair took off, weaving through the crowd like fish in a stream before ducking into the gleaming store. Something in his gut told him this was promising to be trouble, but he wasn’t sure how just yet. “...right. You go do that then. Good luck. Have fun.”

“What did you tell them?” He glanced to his left and found the Inquisitor at his shoulder, a content smile on her lips. Hesitating, he forgot to pull away at her touch; even here, it wasn’t right, to encourage, to savor. But he forgot to listen to that voice when her twinkling gaze met his own. “They looked so excited.”

“Ah, erm. Men stuff. All I can really say, my lady.” Blackwall smiled back and tried not to think about the ease with which they played into their act, like it was alright for him to be this happy for a while. “What about you? Did you find—?”

The sound of shattering glass and shouts coming from the little shop broke the moment, and she pulled away with an inaudible rent that he felt in his chest. Ah, there was that earlier dread again.

The Inquisitor flashed a narrow-eyed, unimpressed glare back at him. _“What did you tell them?”_   
  
Two seconds. He'd look away for two seconds and that was long enough for them to saddle him with the cleanup of...whatever Fade-touched mess this was. And with Inquisitor Trevelyan's irritated manners towards him. Maker, he couldn't even get properly angry at the boys with the small, dejected looks they were giving him.  
  
Seeing no way this could get any worse, he laughed in exasperation and asked aloud to nobody in particular, "is this what having children is like?"  
  
To Blackwall's surprise, the Inquisitor glanced at him sidelong, her frown softening, and then looked away with what looked like the start of a blush. That was...not discouraging.  
  
"She thinks it's very good practice," Cole added helpfully, and then, to the shopkeep's dismay, dropped the mirror he and Erzi were trying to heave back onto its stand.  
  
Maker’s _balls_.  



End file.
